


Keeping Warm

by sparxwrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Lucifer's Cage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:38:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/pseuds/sparxwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can they even die in the Cage? After all, they’re technically dead. Maybe yes, maybe no. Probably no. It’s something he’d rather not test, just in case.</p>
<p>(Michael, Lucifer, Adam, and Sam in the Cage. Sam was expecting torture, and ended up with cuddling against the cold.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Warm

It’s cold in the Cage, freezing - which at least explains why Lucifer’s so cold, some kind of adaptation for his environment, but it doesn’t help when Sam’s sitting there amongst the the iced-over walls and watching his breath form white clouds in the still air. Adam long since crawled onto his lap and into his arms, sobbing, shaking, fighting to breathe past the hysteria. He’s still now, and Sam hopes he’s sleeping, not-

Well. He’s not going to think about that.

(Can they even die in the Cage? After all, they’re technically dead. Maybe yes, maybe no. Probably no. It’s something he’d rather not test, just in case.)

Lucifer and Michael are sat on either side of them, twenty or so meters away in opposite directions, pressed right up against the snow-crusted bars. The metal of them is cold enough that, when Sam touched them earlier, his fingers wouldn’t come away. He had to pull them free, tearing a layer of skin off in the process.

Neither Lucifer or Michael have moved in a few days (or months, or years, or seconds. Time’s hard to tell when there’s no day or night, nothing to keep time other than your own weirdly distorted heartbeat). They’re not sleeping, or dead, Sam knows, because every so often he sees their wings twitch, or their shoulders shake. Once, he eve thought he saw Lucifer crying, but it must have been a reflection off the ice.

Eventually, he gets cold enough to risk testing if he can die.

"Hey!" he calls, cold-shaking voice echoing off the mirror-shine walls, bouncing off the thick bars. "If- if you’re both just gonna sit there and sulk- then you can damn well do it over here, so we can at least all be warm.

And for a second nothing happens. Then, as one, Lucifer and Michael look up, and Sam thinks he’s gone too far, that they’re going to pull Adam’s shivering figure away from him and strap him down and torture him, kill him. But the archangels just glance at each other for the merest minute, and then break eye contact, not looking at each other as they cross the floor of the Cage.

Sam flinches when Michael and Lucifer settle on either side of him, but then wings are encircling him and Adam. The archangels press close, Lucifer at his back and Michael at his front, wings barriers of feathers and warmth on either side, silent and strong.

Neither Michael nor Lucifer say anything, or make eye contact with the other, but they seem to be united in their determination to care for their vessels for the time being. Eventually, Sam forces himself to relax, leans back into Lucifer’s chest and lets the Devil rest a hand on his arm, thumb rubbing soothing circles against the bare skin of his shoulder until he begins to doze off.

Right before sleep takes him, he sees Michael reach out a tentative hand to stroke through Adam’s hair, slow and gentle and awed, and he thinks that they might all be able to survive this after all.


End file.
